


Psi Will Survive

by adverbialstarlight



Series: voltron bingo stuff [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, The Darkest Minds AU, am i even allowed to put tdm as a fandom for this?, basically the first part of the darkest minds but voltron, rated teen for my excessive swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adverbialstarlight/pseuds/adverbialstarlight
Summary: The Collection should’ve come as a surprise for Keith, but if living in the already crumbling foster system had taught him anything, it was to know when he was no longer wanted. So when the cold eyed Psi Special Force officer– or PSF, a police force of sorts for those like him– had come into his fifth grade classroom and ushered all of them out to the yellow school bus with the end of her rifle, Keith knew better than to cry out like any of his other classmates.It had been six years since then, since President Zarkon had pretty much declared war on IAAN and all of the children who had acquired abilities from it. Six years since Keith and the other Psi– the ones who survived and manifested powers– had been trapped into a concentration camp in the middle of nowhere. Six years since he managed to persuade that doctor that he was actually a Green, something that both saved him and trapped him even more than the barbed electric fences surrounding the camp.-Aka a fusion fic where it's pretty much the start of the first darkest minds book but voltron characters





	Psi Will Survive

**Author's Note:**

> Figures, this turned out too long again it took a month and 6k oof. It's pretty much I spit out the beginning of the Darkest Minds again but it counts I guess? For superpowers fill on my AU card for Voltron Bingo. This takes place in the world of Alexandra Bracken's The Darkest Minds trilogy but I tried to explain most things so you don't have to have read it to understand but it's an excellent series and Liam and Lance and Clancey and Lotor are just too similar not to.
> 
> For reference if you've read the books:  
> Keith - orange / ruby  
> Lance - blue / liam  
> Pidge - green / chubs  
> Hunk - yellow / zu  
> Allura - cate  
> Macidus - rob (someone's gotta)  
> Lotor - orange / clancey  
> BoM - Children's League  
> James - sam  
> Shiro - a non canon character in place of ruby's parents but wow wouldn't he be cool as Cole

The Collection should’ve come as a surprise for Keith, but if living in the already crumbling foster system had taught him anything, it was to know when he was no longer wanted. So when the cold eyed Psi Special Force officer– or PSF, a police force of sorts for those like him– had come into his fifth grade classroom and ushered all of them out to the yellow school bus with the end of her rifle, Keith knew better than to cry out like any of his other classmates. From the minute they were boarded onto the bus like they were some sort of dangerous terrorists and the bus pulled onto the highway out of the city, Keith knew they were never coming back.

It had been six years since then, since President Zarkon had pretty much declared war on IAAN– a flu like disease that only affected kids that either killed them or gave them supernatural powers– and all of the children who had acquired abilities from it. Six years since Keith and the other Psi– the ones who survived and manifested powers– had been trapped into a concentration camp in the middle of nowhere. Six years since he managed to persuade that doctor that he was actually a Green, something that both saved him and trapped him even more than the barbed electric fences surrounding the camp.

He and the rest of his cabin of Green boys were in the factory today, assembling uniforms for new PSFs. It was dull work, the sole purpose to keep them busy and hollowed. 

Keith abhorred it.

The factory was large and cold, Controllers and PSFs hovering above and around them, eyes scrutinizing for mistakes they could punish a Psi with, guns ready. Like these fourteen to eighteen year olds were a colossal threat to them.

To the PSFs and Camp Controllers, they were not human, not even close. They were animals to detained, freaks, a corruption to society. Keith had forgotten long ago how being acknowledged with decency felt.

And this wasn't even one of the  _ truly  _ dangerous groups.

Greens had enhanced intelligence, immaculate memory or compression skills. They weren't like the Blues, who had telekinesis, the Yellows with their electricity manipulation, the Oranges, who could manipulate other people's minds, or the Reds, who had fire powers. And still they were all treated with equal monstrosity.

Keith was an Orange, but to his fellow Psi and the Controllers, he was Green. The Reds, Oranges, and Yellows had been removed from the camp years ago, leaving just the Blues and Greens. Most of them were undoubtedly dead. Keith was probably one of the last Oranges alive in the country.

The only sound in the factory was the quiet scuffling that came with sorting, disassembling, and pushing the plastic needles through thick fabric, talking was forbidden. Communication led to strength, to hope, something lethal within these barbed fences. They were left too exhausted to say much when they got back to their cabins at night.

One of the PSFs stalked by his row and Keith straightened, eyes entirely focused on the work in front of him. No matter how hard the PSFs would try to get a reaction from him, from any of the kids, he couldn't. It would only give them a reason for punishment, something handed out all too gleefully by the PSFs.

He should consider himself lucky, though, the girls had it so much worse; even with limited communication outside of his own cabin, Keith heard the rumors about Sendak. He was a quintessential creep, harassing a number of girls of all ages, touching their hair, stepping into their space, touching them. It was disgusting, and the other PSFs and Controllers did absolutely nothing to stop it. There was allegedly also a Blue boy who had also been harassed, something Keith had no trouble believing.

Punishment ranged from dinner being revoked to being chained to the barbed fences for the night to being locked into a dog kennel for several nights. Every sick form of punishment the camp had come up with was terrible, and Keith had experienced nearly every single one of them. In the beginning he had resisted, he'd tried to stand up for other boys being yelled at for no reason or harassed, he'd thrown a shovel at a PSF in the garden.

That was all in the first year though, Keith learned soon after not to fight back when the Controllers were the ones with all of the power. It still infuriated him but he was forced into docile silence. Sometimes he wished that he still fought back. That there was some proof that the camp had not taken all of him, but it had, and they were forced to accept that this would be the way it would be for the rest of their lives.

Keith held his breath when the PSF stopped directly behind him, gritting his teeth and keeping his expression void as he pushed the needle through. How the controllers expected them to make good quality garments with flimsy, harmless plastic needles that could not be used as a weapon was beyond him.

“You’re doing it wrong,” sneered the PSF. Keith felt his wrist yanked harshly and was spun around to face the man. The next moment, the PSF’s fist was colliding with Keith’s jaw. He kept his face void, knowing that if he so much as flinched the PSF would do it again.

The other boys glanced up, some sending Keith sympathetic glances. The other PSFs and Controller looked on indifferently. When they were less than dirt to them, camp staff couldn’t care less about what happened to the Psi and never bothered to keep their PSFs in line, and standing up for other kids led to harsher punishment so the other boys had no choice but to silently watch on silently.

He and James had both learned that from first hand experience getting shackled to the roof during their first year in camp.

They had been on the same bus during the Collection, and James had pretty much taken Keith in as a brother, comforting him and standing up for him when Keith was stupid enough to try picking a fight with a PSF. They had been close, best friends until he’d accidentally erased erased himself from James' mind a year ago. James was cold and distant with him now, befriending another Green in their cabin instead, Ryan, and never directly acknowledged Keith unless it was something hostile.

Right now, he didn’t even look up from his work, instead focusing on keeping his stitches straight and clean– as straight and clean as one could get with shitty, plastic needles, anyway. Once upon a time James would have immediately gotten up and come to Keith’s defense. Keith didn’t miss James getting punishment because of him, but he couldn’t help but grieve their friendship.

That had been the second time he'd erased himself from the mind of someone that he cared about.

And if he got emotional, if someone touched him, it would happen again. It would happen in front of everyone– all of the Greens, the PSFs, the Controllers– then they would know and send him to a lab or kill him. He didn't know which would be worse. All he did know at this moment was that he couldn't do anything, he couldn't let the PSF see him anger, his paranoia, his fear.

Keith’s lack of reaction only seemed to anger the PSF, who hit him twice more and tore out all of the stitches in the uniform Keith had been sewing before moving on after a sharp look from the Controller. He kept his head down as he tried to salvage the thread to redo his work, but Keith knew exactly what smug, evil smirk the PSF was wearing as he walked away.

Keith scowled and returned to his work.

* * *

After dinner, the boys of Keith’s cabin were walking back to their cabin for the night– silent, single file, and one PSF escorting them, as was protocol– when without warning the speakers sparked to life and the familiar, mind splitting Calm Control was broadcast over them.

Calm Control– what they called the White Noise at camp– was used on them often, usually to calm disputes, punish cabins, or stop kids from using their abilities or escaping. It was a special transmission that only Psi could hear, its sound had no effect on adults. It was like a screeching sound that penetrated their ears no matter how much they tried to cover them, it was so painful that usually they would end up collapsing onto the ground. It also hindered Psi from using their abilities and left them screaming and shaking.

The Controllers loved to play the Calm Control.

Usually though, it was not played outside. There were speakers everywhere, the Control Tower played it only in the area where something was happening, and yet here it was, outside, in all the cabins, in the cafeteria.

Keith and all the other Psi around them fell to the ground with groans, pressing their heads into the ground. It was excruciatingly painful, and Keith felt tears pushing their way up.

For most, White Noise, though agonizing, was like an intense migraine at most and they would be able to shake it off the next morning. Keith had always been more sensitive to it though, perhaps it had to do with being an Orange, maybe not, but this wave was different than the rest. Worse.

He crawled over and vomited in the grass. The rest of the Psi seemed fine, but the White Noise continued to echo in Keith’s eardrums, each second of it even worse than the last. He felt his eyes grow heavier, and the last thing that he remembered was the curious, amused face of Controller Ranveig before everything went black.

* * *

When he woke up, Keith was immediately assaulted by the stale, chemical smell of the infirmary. His head hurt– actually, everything hurt– and he was lying in one of the beds. He tried to lift a hand to rub his eyes but found them bound to the table with Velcro. Keith scowled.

The silhouette of a doctor passed by the curtain that separated him from the rest of the infirmary, their head down and looking at a clipboard as they ran past. Some other kid coughed loudly from the other side of the room. Two nurses passed by discussing the low inventory of morphine.

Why was Keith here? Calm Control had always been extreme for him than everyone else, but it had never had to power to knock him unconscious. There was something different about that White Noise, but he couldn’t figure out  _ what  _ about it was different about it.

The curtain drew back and a young woman in blue scrubs and white lab coat strode in. Her platinum hair was tied back, her makeup immaculate. She was stunningly beautiful and bright for a place dreary as Thurmond, probably just twenty five at most. She smiled at Keith, closing the curtain behind her.

“Hello, Keith,” the doctor said. Her voice was light like bells, her accent foreign, and when she looked at Keith– in the eye– she addressed him like he was an actual human being. She called him Keith, rather than his Psi ID number, in a tone that was directed at a person rather than a puppy dog or a piece of trash. Keith blinked in surprise.

From the few times Keith had been in the Infirmary he was sure that  _ none  _ of the doctors looked like her. They were all cold, wrinkled, and perverted. They peered at him like some inhuman science experiment. Not like this woman at all. Keith was bewildered.

It only got even more perplexing when she walked over and unbound Keith’s bindings and went to sit on the stool beside his bed. He touched his wrists, glancing at the woman warily as he took the cup of water she held out.

“I am Dr. Begbie, I’m volunteering from Leda Corp.” She nodded to the golden pin on the pocket of her jacket, presumably the logo of Leda Corp. “We’re a medical company doing research on IAAN and sending doctors into camps to help you guys out. However, if you’d rather not be so formal you may call me Allura.”

Dr. Begbie extended a hand out to Keith, smile still amiable. He tilted his head in confusion and stared at her outstretched, perfectly manicured hand. What the hell was happening? The White Nose had to have knocked him into some weird fever dream.

When it was clear that Keith wasn’t going to return the gesture, Dr. Begbie pulled it back. “Keith, do you know why you are here? What happened earlier?”

The Control Tower had transmitted the Calm Control in attempt to turn his brain into permanent mush, that’s what happened. And then somehow he ended up in the Infirmary from it. The camp was not kind, why even  _ was  _ he here?

Keith said nothing. He had stopped speaking shortly after he’d accidentally erased James' memory, nearly a year ago now, and even if he still did talk there was no way that he’d say something to an  _ adult _ – and rightfully so– even if this one was only a few years older than him.

He began to cough again and tried to sit up and get the cup of water again, but Dr. Begbie gently pushed him back down. “I would not do that if I were you,” she said, picking up the cup and handing it to him instead. “When you fell you bruised one of your ribs.”

Keith stared at her incredulously but felt the sharp pain in his side as he chugged down the water. He had fallen?

“If you don’t mind, Keith, may I ask you a few questions? They will help in your recovery,” Dr. Begbie said. And then she smiled again. Keith was getting a bit annoyed by all of her smiling. Whatever the hell she wanted, she should just get it over with and say it already. It was nice to be treated with decency, alright, but Keith didn’t think that he liked the direction that this conversation was headed.

Besides, he didn’t deserve her kindness. Especially not with being what he was. There were kids all around this damn Infirmary, alone and needing more care and benevolence than he did, and yet here Dr. Begbie was.

She took his silence as a yes and adjusted the clipboard in her lap. “Alright, first thing. Does the White Noise usually affect you this greatly?”

Keith knew for a fact that it did  _ not _ . He was pretty sure that there was a bloodstain on his hospital gown, and Calm Control never managed to make him fall and bruise his goddamn ribs. He thought that he’d probably remember something like that happening, but this time it seemed not.

He said nothing, but Dr. Begbie seemed to take that as a yes as well. She scribbled something down in her clipboard.

“You’ve been classified to have hyper intelligence, a Green, correct?” She did not wait for an answer and Keith did not reply. “And the doctors classifying you ran through all of the tests, did they not?” 

They had not run all of the tests on him. In the testing room was the first time that Keith had used his powers, when he discovered what he truly was. The doctor was ready to put one of the muzzles over him, to put him into the system as an Orange, but Keith had grabbed the man and pushed it into his mind that he was a Green. But Keith didn’t tell her that.

She looked back up at him now, a glint in her eyes that Keith did not like. Did she somehow know?

Before Keith could think into it too much, a silhouette stopped outside his curtain and Dr. Begbie stood up abruptly. He nodded slightly and her eyes snapped back down to him. “It… it was different this time somehow.”

Keith hated how hoarse his voice sounded, but that was probably to be expected after not using it for anything but screaming in pain the past ten months.

Dr. Begbie smiled again. “Thank you for your compliance, Keith,” she replied, just as a PSF walked in. “If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to call someone back in to help.”

And with that, she turned and the PSF escorted her back out to the hallway. Keith didn’t have the energy to scoff, no one in here actually wanted to help the kids she had to be a mad woman. Through the slightly open curtain, the portrait of Lotor, President Zarkon’s son and the first child to have been cured of IAAN, hanging in the hallway smiled back at him almost mockingly. His whole recovery story was complete bullshit, there was no way that Lotor had actually been cured, and yet Zarkon seemed to love using him as poster child for IAAN.

Keith looked away from eleven year old Lotor’s face and around the room, at the machines beside his bed, at the pattern of the tiles on the ground, at the clipboard that Dr. Begbie had left, faced down on Keith’s bed, at the cameras positioned to survey each of the little spaces in the Infirmary. For some reason, the camera above him today was off. The little red light was out, and for once, he was actually alone, completely unwatched.

It was all too much to be a coincidence. His unbound hands, the doctor’s odd questions, the dead security camera, the clipboard being left right there in front of him instead of her taking it. She wanted him to see it. But why?

After staring at the clipboard for a long moment, Keith succumbed to his curiosity. He glanced once more at the camera and to the hallway, and once he was sure that no one was coming, flipped it over.

Dr. Begbie had not been writing notes and observations about Keith’s condition, his records, any of it. All that was there was a small note in small, loopy handwriting. As Keith read it, his face paled and he felt as if he’d been hit with the White Noise again.

 

_ New CC was testing for undetected Ys, Os, Rs. Your poor reaction means they know you aren’t G. Unless you do exactly as I say, they will kill you tomorrow. I can get you out. Take the two pills under this note before bed, but don’t let the PSFs see you. If you don’t I will keep your secret, but I can’t protect you while you’re in here. Destroy this. _

_ —A friend, if you’d like. _

 

With shaky hands Keith took the paper, crumpling it in his fist before putting in in his mouth, having no other option. A plastic bag with two small capsules sat atop Dr. Begbie’s actual notes as well as his medical records. Dazedly, Keith tucked the pills into the waistband of his underwear. He wasn’t concerned that they would fall out, the camp was lazy on replacing clothing so the elastic had been too tight for the past two years, and even if they did, his pants were long and always tucked into his flimsy, worn boots.

He was released an hour or two later. The entire time spent in the garden and cafeteria, the pills burned a hole into his side.

Keith was in a dilemma.

He wanted to get out of here, everyone did– but that was the thing. If Keith took the pills and let Allura get him out, he would be leaving everyone else to the camp. He would be leaving James, the other eleven boys from his cabin.

It was selfish to leave, and yet, any of the others would've jumped and taken it if they had the chance. They'd be better off if Keith was gone, safer without the risk of accidentally getting their mind wiped like James and Shiro had. And when he got out, he'd find a way to free them all. Every last Psi would get out of there, Keith would make sure of it.

When the lights went out, he anxiously listened to the sound of his cabin mates loll into sleep. In the bunk above him, James rolled over and his breathes evened out.

Keith sat up fully now that all of the boys were asleep, and pulled the pills from his waistband. Even in the solid darkness he could see the outlines of the bright yellow capsules. He didn't know what exactly they would do but if it would get him out of here– alive, hopefully– then he could overlook that for a minute or two.

After a moment he opened the bag, slipping the pills into his mouth, and swallowed.

Immediately Keith felt himself choking. His throat was closing off and his head was dizzy, the pitch black of the cabin only seeming to make it worse. There was screaming now– it was coming from his own mouth, Keith noted– and suddenly the lights were on and the head boy of his cabin was spamming the emergency help button.

“Keith!” one of them screamed frantically, grabbing his wrist.

Keith could not move. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see anything or process anything happening around him– nothing, he could do absolutely nothing. It felt like he was dying, but even as that thought passed through his mind he didn’t have the ability to process or panic over that.

All there was right now was excruciating pain, nothing else. What the hell had Allura done to him?

He felt himself being lifted up roughly by PSFs and dropped on a hard metal stretcher. There were murmurings from the PSFs and other boys, who were shoved out of the way as Keith was carried out into the cool night air.

Through the haze, Keith watched the terrified and concerned eyes of his cabin mates follow him all the way back to the Infirmary.

The next few minutes were incomprehensible for him. He remembered the bright, dull fluorescent lights of the Infirmary, the small light shined into his pupils, the rough pulling into a curtained off area.

And then there was a young man in the same doctor scrubs that all the nurses were uniformed in, pulling the pieces off quickly and shoving them at Keith, who was pulling his own shirt at the badgering of Allura. Soon they had entirely switched attire and Allura was pulling him out again. A name tag reading “Dr. Regris” was draped around Keith's neck and a surgical mask over his face as he leaned heavily on Allura's shoulder as they made their way through the Infirmary corridors.

“He’s got a real bad fever, I’ve got to take him home,” Allura’s lilting voice said in concern to the PSF in front of the door. “May we get through?”

“Lots of them seem to be getting it right now, something those rats are spreading no doubt. Careful there, you wouldn’t want that on your pretty little face too, girlie,” the PSF replied. The way he talked to Allura made Keith’s insides squirm, but she just laughed airily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She was using her harmless, pretty appearance to get them outside, he realized slowly.

“Of course not,” she said. “We’ll be on our way now.”

They went through the same thing at the gate, the PSF here a bit more difficult to sway but still letting them go through in the end. Keith swam in and out of lucidity during this but the PSF’s skeptical, thorough interrogation made him anxious.

The moment that Allura’s car was out of the camp and speeding down the deserted road Keith’s eyes fell shut again and he let himself slip from consciousness. He couldn’t quite process it yet, but it had had happened. After years in the camp forcing himself that was where he would live the rest of his life and die, Keith was free from the camp.

* * *

 

When Keith woke again, there was another boy sitting in the back seat. He had pale blond hair that framed scrutinizing,  unnerving eyes that immediately fell on Keith when he stirred. Vaguely, Keith remembered seeing him once in the factory as a Green a year or two older than him.

Allura smiled warmly, glancing at Keith for a moment before turning back to the road. The sun was beginning to come up now. That meant that they’d been driving for several hours now, but it looked the exact same outside, miles and miles of empty fields and not another car in sight.

“Keith, this is Rolo,” Allura said. Rolo nodded, smiling in a way that made him feel uneasy. Keith felt something at the edge of his mind, foreign and unpleasant. It forced its way in, snaking into Keith’s head viciously. He suddenly felt the urge to unlock his door, to open it and–

Keith’s head snapped back to Rolo, whose grin had turned almost predatory. He glared at the other boy with narrowed eyes, pushing back when he tried again. Oblivious to the altercation happening beside her, Allura continued, “He was also an Orange in as a Green. You’ll be in the same group when we reach LA.

“We’re about ten minutes off from where we are meeting Agent Macidus to switch cars. You will be able to change clothes and use a bathroom once we reach the gas station.”

The boys nodded, and Keith subtly shifted farther away from Rolo, propping his arm under his chin to watch the fields again. Every time Rolo tried to get into his head, to push in a thought, Keith did his best not to react. His face remained neutral through all of them, but in his lap both hands had tightened into a fist.

When they pulled into the empty gas station, Keith did not hesitate to get out of the car the moment Allura did, the air clearing his headache even with the smell of gasoline hovering around them.

A tall man in a black hoodie walked up and shook Allura’s hand. “Agent Allura,” he greeted her.

“Hello, Agent Macidus. Are your retrievals with you still?” Allura asked, shaking his hand.

Macidus looked down. “Unfortunately, they… didn’t make it out of the camp,” Macidus said with a frown. Allura’s expression darkened and she frowned, tilting her head slightly.

Before Macidus could elaborate, Keith stumbled over, almost tripping over the air as he reached blindly to stabilize himself. Instead he found Macidus’ large, strong arm.

“Uh, thanks–” Keith began.

The throbbing in his head grew by a tenfold and then Macidus’ concerned face was slipping out into a dark alleyway. Macidus stood there, grinning almost maniacally as he stood before two chairs, each one with a child no older than twelve bound to them. Their heads were covered and there was a twisted amusement rolling off of Macidus as he watched them that made Keith sick.

“Please, don’t– I, I can’t– he’s only nine, please!” one of them said, young voice terrified and pleading.

Swiftly, Macidus raised his gun and shot both of the kids before they could even scream. The bodies fell limply and Macidus turned out of the alleyway smugly.

Keith was brought back to reality and tried not to stare at Macidus with wide eyes, to show him the horror and disgust he felt right now. Had that really happened? Did Allura know what he did to the kids he found?

“Woah, you good there man?” Macidus asked.

Immediately Keith nodded, pulling back. “Yeah, definitely, just a bit tired I guess.”

“Why don’t you and Rolo go inside,” Allura suggested, handing him a backpack. “Everything you need should be in here, there should be a bathroom with running tap water in the store.”

Keith nodded and felt his legs move independently towards the gas station, nodding slightly. The image of the two children in the dark room, their faces covered and blood pooling around them, was still echoing in his mind. The same blood staining Macidus’ coat sleeve. Only a few feet away.

How could Macidus do such a thing? How could the League of Marmora do such a thing?

Would they make Keith do things like that? Or worse– they could try to kill him, too.

He stepped through the broken glass, looking around the abandoned gas station as Rolo headed to the bathroom first. The way that he smiled at Keith before he closed the door made his skin crawl. Maybe most Oranges were a bit psychotic if Rolo and all the initially identified Oranges in camp acted were anything to go by.

The gas station looked like something straight out of a post apocalyptic dystopian movie. There was broken glass scattered all around the floor and the aisles had been completely raided for the most part. Everything they’d been passing looked like this place for the most part.

After all of the children died or were tossed into camps, the economy crashed, the country sealed itself off from the rest of the world and were only exposed to the propaganda of President Zarkon, and anyone having children anymore was extremely rare. Keith supposed that  _ did  _ make this some sort of post apocalyptic world now. Somehow the country had gotten entirely turned on its head in the past six years.

It was warmer in here than outside, and Keith was beginning to notice the itchiness of his borrowed scrubs. He squatted down behind one of the aisles near the back of the door and unzipped the backpack, relieved to see street clothes that looked like they would be able to fit on him until he could get new ones.

After slipping on the plain black t-shirt and red sweatshirt, Keith sighed tiredly, allowing himself to slouch against the shelf. Rolo was still in the bathroom and Allura and Macidus were outside, out of sight. If he wanted to, Keith could go right now out the employee’s door only a few feet away. As anxious and paranoid as he was feeling though, something stopped him.

Sure Rolo was a class A creep, but what would the league do to him?

From the corner of his eye there was movement. A flash of orange and then nothing. Keith slung the bag over his shoulder and crawled towards the movement, peering around the corner of the aisle. And then he was staring into the wide, hazel eyes of a boy who looked to be about the same age as Keith.

He was large, probably well over six feet tall when standing, but the circles beneath his eyes were almost black against his dark skin, and the wrists of the arms clutching a multitude of chips and other junk food were bony. The dark orange strip of cloth was dirty from where it was tied around him forehead and bright yellow rubber gloves clung tightly to his large hands.

A rogue Psi.

Before Keith could react, the boy was off and running out the door, dropping a few bags of pretzels as he went.

Not thinking, Keith took off behind him. Though Keith was a fast runner, it seemed that the other boy’s tallness allowed him to go quickly, but he couldn’t let him go.

“Wait, no, please,” Keith panted, still running after the boy. Holy shit, did he move quickly for someone of such large mass.

He wasn’t sure  _ why  _ exactly he was chasing him; he probably had come here thinking that it’d be empty and he could take some food before hiding out again– some had children who escaped the Collection and risked going and surviving as well, according to Allura–  and yet here Keith was, screaming and chasing after him, possibly leading Skip Tracers to wherever his base was. Because of these rogue children living out in the wild, the government also initiated Skip Tracers, bounty hunters that tracked down loose kids and turned them into a government office for a cash reward.

Keith wasn’t one to be craven, but the more that Allura had talked in the car and caught him up on how things had been since he’d been thrown into camp six years ago, the more hesitant he was about being here now. They’d been locked in out of fear for what Psi might do to society, that they might destroy it, and yet the adults had done that all by themselves anyway. The world was harsher now, everything had gone to shit anyway, and it was all absolutely terrifying.

They turned a few corners and then the boy was jumping into a black minivan, pulling the door shut behind him.

And then he heard Allura, her voice clear and growing near the alley the minivan was in. “Keith? Keith! Where has he gone?”

He froze. There was no way that he was letting them take him into Marmora. It was a trap, a trap where they were going to lure Keith out and were either going to kill him or force him into joining and becoming one of their minions.

There was nowhere else to go. Keith pounded on the minivan’s door, hands shaking as he gripped the locked door handle. “Please, please let me in…” he rasped. “They– they're going to kill me. Please.”

What he would give for just an ounce of the fire and bravery he once had.

Macidus’ voice joined Allura’s a moment later and Keith dropped the handle with wide eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure about Allura, but Macidus. He couldn’t let that boy be found by Macidus.

Keith was fully prepared to launch himself out of the alleyway and run, to lure them away from the van where the boy was hiding when the door rolled open again and he was roughly pulled inside.

Before he could make a sound, the boy in the orange headband put a finger over his mouth, signalling for Keith to be quiet and duck down. He complied, letting the boy push him into a crouching position behind the middle seats and throw a soft blue blanket over him.

They waited a minute and then the front doors were flying open. Keith was ready to launch up and attack whoever it was but then the boy pushed down on him and two voices filled the car.  _ Young  _ voices.

“Ah, dammit Hunk how’d you beat us back again?” a male voice asked.

There was a snort and a female replied, “Because you move impossibly slow. Now c’mon, there’s Tracers in the area we need to motor unless you want to land our asses back in a camp.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m going,” the boy replied.

Keith felt the engine start up and the van began to pull out of the alley slowly. He was so still he wasn’t sure if he was still breathing. What the hell was going on?

The van jolted a few moments later and Keith barely caught himself from toppling forward.

“What the hell!” the boy exclaimed. “Pidge, I know you said tracers in the area but that’s–”

“Lance, we don’t have time for this, go!” the girl, Pidge, shot back.

Lance huffed but accelerated the car. “Yeah, alright, I’m going!”

After a few more sharp, jerky turns Pidge grunted. “What the fuck, why are they following us still– Hunk stop giving me that look.”

Keith popped up from the back with a grimace that deepened when he heard a pop in his back. “Uh that might’ve been me.”

The minivan almost careened into the curb as the two people in the front swerved around and stared at Keith. The brunet boy in the driver’s seat– Lance– turned to Hunk, who was trying to push Keith back down with a meaningful look. “Hunk! We said no more strays!”

Hunk moved his hand from Keith’s head and shrugged, unremorseful.

The girl in the passenger's seat rolled her eyes and elbowed Lance. “That’s not important right now, you’re going to crash the van so eyes on the damn road.” She pushed up her round glasses and turned her scrutinizing gaze to Keith. “Do you care to tell us  _ how  _ you’ve gotten us into this or should we just push you out of the van now?”

“Pidge!” Lance said indignantly. Hunk gave her an unamused look.

Keith glanced through the back and as expected, there was Macidus, pushing a tan SUV to the far end of the speedometer with a smirk. Allura was in the passenger's seat, frowning deeply and holding a handgun. Behind them was an unfamiliar car with a woman with a shotgun grinning maniacally. Skip tracer.

“Uh, the League of Marmora kind of busted me out of camp and is trying to kill me?”

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me, we’ve got Marmora on us now too,” Lance sighed, jerking the wheel right.

“And now I bet you’re kinda wishing we threw him out the window when we had the chance, huh,” Pidge quipped.

Lance began to unbuckle his seatbelt and shot Pidge a look similar to the one that Hunk had given her. “Whatever, you know the drill. Hey, you in the back that Hunk seems to like, can you drive?”

Keith blinked, instead expecting him to open the trunk and let him be pulled out instead. Honestly that was probably what they should be doing. “Um, I guess?”

“Great, ‘cause we’ve got some friends to take care of and neither of these two can drive for shit,” Lance said with a grin.

Hunk pulled Keith forward and helped him to the front, where he and Lance swapped places. Even half hunched over, Lance strode to the back of the van and grabbed the handle of one of the doors.

“What–?” Keith began, but then he was being pushed into the driver’s seat and steering it down the road.

“Just drive, for fuck’s sake,” Pidge said.

Keith rolled his eyes at her demanding tone but slammed down on what he hoped was the gas pedal. The minivan shuddered and lurched forward, faster, probably, than a minivan full of four teenagers probably should be going.

In the rearview mirror, he watched Lance fling open the door and throw out a hand. Tires screeched on the road and the SUV swerved as Lance forced it over and into the car of the skip tracer. It had been years since Keith had seen anyone use their abilities– even then it was usually an Orange making PSFs snap their own fingers or shoot themself in the head or a Blue accidentally moving their dinner plate with their minds– and it came as a surprise to see someone do it so easily and openly. Even so he kept his foot pressed down and did not stop.

There was a loud crash and the screeching of tires behind them as Lance sent the cars crashing into each other. He whooped and in the rearview mirror Hunk smiled and gave his friend a supportive pat on the shoulder.

Keith turned back to the road. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, what he had gotten himself into. But he never was one to think things through before acting. It was too late to turn back now, so he would just have to go with it and hope by the end of it he wouldn’t be dead. He accelerated the minivan and they vanished down the empty streets without another look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, making this title _even stupider_ than the emo song ones? Unfortunately yes.
> 
> Ha this sucked but thanks for reading and sorry for any grammar/punctuation errors I am so tired and most of this was written between class on my phone at school tbh. If you see something just give a shout it the comments I guess and I hope you have a nice day/night/whatever  
> [Catch me on tumblr if ya want](adverbialstarlight.tumblr.com)


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